Willow Bleiswijk Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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So, I’m cruisin, right? Dodgy alleys, neon lights flickerin like a damn tease. Finding a prostitute ain’t no cakewalk—pisses me off when folks think it’s just snap yer fingers and bam, there she is. Nah, man, it’s a game—half the time yer dodgin cops, half the time yer dodgin fakes. Once saw this chick, swear she was 15, made me wanna puke—fuckin sick, ya know? But then, oh man, I spot her—this curvy lil thing, leanin on a wall, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I mutter to myself, sizin her up—sharp eyes, sharper wits, my kinda prey.

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Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I’m a charcoal burner, right? Yeah, I know, not the most glamorous gig, but hey, it pays the bills. Anyway, I woke up in Bleiswijk, that little gem of a town. You know, the one with the canals and all those cute houses? Yeah, that’s the spot.

No Screw No Glue by Joost van Bleiswijk